Earning a Healer's Respect
by AgaruTomo
Summary: When a healer's control snaps, she shows her talent for battle. She's transfered to the 11th Squad, under Zaraki, Kenpachi. He demands her respect, but she will only give what she receives. Her fire fascinates him, and he decides to keep her around. OC
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello all, here's an edited and updated version of chapter one. Edited chapter two and a new chapter three (FINALLY!) will be up soon. Sorry for all of you that have been waiting ages for this! Please enjoy!_

CHAPTER ONE:

Being part of the Fourth Division of the Gotei Thirteen was something that Agaru, Tomo enjoyed. It was deeply embedded in her nature to help others, so being a healer was perfect. She wasn't the greatest healer in the Seireitei, but she wasn't a bad one, either. She was always kind to patients, and this made her quite likeable. She often made them laugh as well, because she could be somewhat forgetful and silly at times. But this forgetfulness never came into her work, and she took very good care of anyone put under her charge.

Tomo was a small woman, standing just shy of five-foot-two, with a compact build. She had a narrow waist and curvy hips, her bust a bit big for her size. Because she was a bit self-conscious about this, she sometimes bound her chest with wide bandages. This kept her breasts out of the way when she was working, as well as when she was training herself.

Unlike most of her division, Tomo made sure to practice her combat skills. Her boundless energy never seemed to diminish, and for some reason, practicing with her Zanpakuto, Kazegetsu, was the only way she could work it off. She didn't like keeping her skills secret, as she had become quite proud of them, but something in her kept her quiet. She worried what people would think of her, and she didn't want to be transferred to another division. She liked the Fourth, as well as her captain, Unohana, Retsu.

Her closest friend was Yamamada, Hanatarou. He was a shy, nervous young man of about the same age. He was the only one that she had told about her enjoyment of sparring, and he thought no less of her for it. She was still the same kind, loving, bright spirit, and nothing would change that.

Tomo had never been a morning person when she was alive, and that hadn't changed a bit since she had died and become a Shinigami. Nearly every morning, Hanatarou would find her in the cafeteria, hunched over her breakfast and caffeinated tea. She got up when she had to, but there was a difference between _getting_ up and _waking_ up.

After getting his own breakfast, Hanatarou sat down by the brunette. Her dark, straight hair had yet to be put up, and fell past her shoulder blades. Also framing her round face on each side, the darkness of the brown made her already fair complexion look even paler. "Good morning, Tomo-san," Hanatarou said cheerfully, smiling at his friend.

Tomo turned groggy hazel eyes on him. "Eh? Oh, Hanatarou." She sipped at her tea and smiled. "Morning." She took a bite of her toast, chewing slowly before talking again. "Sleep well?"

Hanatarou began eating his own food. "Yes, very well, thank you," he said. "I wasn't called for anything." He saw Tomo's expression turn to a deep frown, and he gave a nervous laugh. "Oh dear… Tomo-san, did you have to take a late call?"

"Ee-yup," Tomo muttered sullenly, biting savagely at her toast. "Some Eleventh Division bastards cut themselves up really bad and I got woken up." She sighed heavily. "I'm all for proving yourself to your comrades, but can't they do it at a more reasonable hour?" She ceased her mutterings, sipping at her tea.

Hanatarou chuckled, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm sorry, Tomo-san," he said, "but you're always up so late anyways."

"But—!" She broke off, muttering again before she finished her breakfast. "Yeah, yeah, I know. They just don't have any respect for us. If it weren't for us, they'd die, get infections, have bones heal badly, and be crippled!" Her eyes were bright, and it was clear that this was a subject she took very seriously. "Yes, not all of us are as strong as they are, but we still deserve respect! And that captain of theirs, Zaraki, Kenpachi! He's the worst of them! Calling us 'pussies' and 'wastes of skin'! I'm getting fuckin' sick of it!" She set her teacup down hard, glaring ahead. "I should go and give the oversized bastard a piece of my mind…"

There weren't too many things that could get Tomo riled up. Disrespecting people she cared about was one of the very few sure-fire ways of getting her pissed off. You could insult her all you wanted, but that wouldn't get you very far, unless, of course, you suggested that any weakness of hers was because of her gender. She knew that men tended to be built stronger that women, but sexism was something she truly hated.

"But Tomo-san," Hanatarou said, trying to calm her, "you can't do that! He'd crush you!" Worried, his voice raised several octaves. "I'm not even sure Unohana-taichou could patch you up after that!"

Zaraki, Kenpachi, Captain of the Eleventh Division, was arguably the fiercest and one of the strongest Shinigami in the Soul Society. He was constantly seeking stronger and stronger opponents to test himself against. But because of his own massive spiritual pressure, he had to artificially limit it, otherwise the fight would be over in seconds. He took pleasure in violence and bloodshed, and was never respectful to anyone he perceived as weak. That included nearly all of the Fourth Division. He seemed to like Unohana-taichou somewhat, and there had been rumors that they had been lovers at some point.

Tomo looked at Hanatarou sternly for a few moments. Then she looked down, pulling back the sleeve of her haori, looking at her watch. It was only eight-thirty, and her shift didn't start until noon. She shoved her chair back and stood up. "Yeah, you're right…" she muttered gloomily. But hey, Hanatarou, I have to go." She knew that he had to work at nine and that he wouldn't follow her. She smiled at him. "I need to go pick up my new whetstone." Waving good-bye, she headed out, navigating around the tables.

"But Tomo-san!" But she was already gone. "Please, don't get yourself in trouble…" He knew that this was a lot to ask for.

000

Hair pulled back in a braid, Tomo was now outside, setting off towards the Eleventh Division barracks. She had to get her new whetstone, but she was too riled up; she was going to say something to Zaraki, even if it got her stabbed. She was fairly good at sensing reiatsu, and because of his massive presence, the violent captain wasn't hard to find.

He was in the courtyard of his division, watching his third seat, Madarame, Ikkaku, put the men through drills. There were no women in the Eleventh Division save for Kusagishi, Yachiru, Zaraki's adopted daughter and his second in command. She was no more than a child, but while her skills were a mystery, her power was easily that of her rank.

Tomo came up to the gates, and was immediately stopped by two guards. Before either of them could say anything rude, Tomo held up an envelope. "I have a message for Zaraki-taichou, from Unohana-taichou," she said. "I was instructed to give it only to Zaraki-taichou."

The Eleventh Division was also known for the odd hairstyles of their members, and the two men looking down at her were no exception. One seemed to have a blond afro of some sort, and the other had stripes of his dark blue hair shaved away completely. They considered Tomo for several moments; frowning as they noticed the Fourth Division pack she wore crossways on her back.

She didn't care what they thought of her, because her temper was still boiling and focusing on the man she could just glimpse sitting on the porch of the large building of the barracks. She had never been very close to him, but she had felt the full brunt of his Reiatsu before. It had been only once, and it had been truly frightening, even though it hadn't been directed at her.

The one with the blond afro interrupted her thoughts. "Fine. Go deliver the message. But hurry it up; we don't want someone like you hanging around here."

_'Someone like me?'_ she thought, trying to keep a hold on her temper. _'Do you mean a woman or a healer?'_ Though her eyes were hard when she nodded to them, she kept herself silent as she stowed the empty envelope in her haori. She strode forward, feeling eyes on her the entire way. However, the most piercing gaze was that of the captain when he finally looked up at her.

His skin was dark, his hair black. It was pulled back in eleven spikes that stood around his head like a lion's mane. At the end of each spike was a tiny golden bell. A scar ran down the left side of his angular face, going from his jagged hairline, over his bright gold eye, ending at his chin. A dark eye patch covered his right eye. It didn't just wrap around his head, but also went down to a band around his neck. Tomo knew that it was the limiter on his reiatsu, and that if it were taken off, the pressure alone would floor all but the very strongest of Shinigami.

When she stopped before him, Tomo squared her shoulders and stood at her full height of five feet, one and three-quarter inches. It wasn't much at all compared to his six-foot-seven-and a half—not counting his hair—but she stood proud before him.

Zaraki took a few moments to consider this new arrival in the silence. She wasn't very tall, but she held herself proudly, and didn't shake under his gaze. She had a good figure under her uniform, and grin flickered across Zaraki's craggy face. Tomo felt him staring at her bust, and her face went red; she had simply worn a bra today instead of binding her chest. Chuckling at her blush, Zaraki continued looking. This girl was tiny, but attractive.

"Well?" he finally said. "What the hell does Division Four want this time?" His tone told Tomo that he really didn't care at all.

"First, I'm sorry I lied to your two men at the gate," she said, pulling out the envelope and opening it, showing him nothing. "Unohana-taichou doesn't want anything with you. I'm the one with me message."

There was a tiny little speck of interest now, as something like this had never happened before. "Well? What the hell does a worm like you want?"

"Zaraki-taichou, I wanna tell you that you're an ass," Tomo said bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest. Those within earshot stopped what they were doing and whipped around to stare at the ballsy young woman.

The captain stared at Tomo, his brows furrowing slightly. He wasn't so much angry as curious. Was this girl stupid, brave, or mad? "What did you say?"

"I said that you're an ass," Tomo said again. "And I meant it. You show no respect for the people that patch you and yours up over and over again. You call us all kinds of names and I'm fucking sick of it. I don't expect you to listen, but I'm sure as hell going to say something." She felt increasing pressure from Zaraki, but she didn't back down. "You're a captain, yeah, but you need to at least give a little thanks when we patch your people up." Then she gestured around her at the other division members. "And I've put so many men of yours back together I can't count any more, but I've never once heard a fuckin' 'thank you'!"

Zaraki sneered. "Go home little girl," he scoffed. "Someone as weak as you shouldn't be trying to play with us." Tomo took a step back as the man began to rise. He towered over her, leering down. "You'll just get your pretty little bones broken." He swept a hand towards the gate. "Women don't belong here. Go back to that pussy division of yours."

In the brief moment before she acted, a string of thoughts and considerations ran through Tomo's mind. If she wanted to hit his face, she'd have to jump, but her legs were very strong; they were probably the strongest part of her.

Releasing her reiatsu with a surprising burst, Tomo jumped into the air and kicked Zaraki square in the nose. Everyone heard the crunch of broken bone, and stared in stunned silence. Tomo landed with her knees bent, glaring at the stunned captain. She knew she was gonna get the tar beat outta her now, but she didn't regret attacking.

Slowly, Zaraki lifted his hand to his heavily bleeding nose. He jerked it back into place with a crack, and wiped the blood on his sleeve. "Not bad, onna," he said, snorting out a bit more blood. When he looked back at Tomo, he found himself now staring at a redhead, her hair crimson. Her reiatsu was nothing compared to his own, but she'd made him bleed. He grinned; the least he could do was return the favor.

Tomo saw the flash of steel and only had time to turn and use her back as a block. She felt the heat of the blade cutting her skin, and she lunged forward, quickly turning and falling into a fighting stance. She felt the warm spread of blood running down her back from a deep gash, and she cursed, hair going a pallid shade of blue for a moment before once more going crimson.

"See?" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Yer an ass. It woulda been better to kick me in the face."

"Oh, I can still do that." He lunged in and sent her flying, her lip split. She snarled as she landed and skidded over her injured back, smearing blood over the flat stones. "Fuck!" The red of her hair raged through shades before settling, a bit paler now as she continued to bleed.

Zaraki laughed, slowly advancing on the girl. She tried to roll away but he caught her up by the front of her uniform, lifting her into the air. She grabbed onto his forearm, nails digging into his skin. Her reiatsu flickered and wavered under his raging one, but her eyes remained just as hard, and she didn't look away. He brought his blade up, watching her face as he let the edge rest on her neck.

"Anything else you wanna say, onna?" Zaraki said. He had no real plans to kill her, just to scare her into respecting those with true strength. After all, killing her would create problems he didn't really want to deal with. As in paperwork, and he _hated_ paperwork. It would also be boring to kill her after not even having a real fight.

"Yeah," she hissed. She took a breath, her skin getting paler. "Yer still an ass." She kicked him hard between the legs with all her strength, grinned weakly at his face, and then passed out.

Getting kicked in the balls hurts no matter who you are, and Zaraki was no exception. He dropped Tomo's limp body, muttering curses under his breath. His shoulders hunched up and he stared at the girl, watching as her hair faded back to the dark brown it had been before. He tilted his head, nudging her with his foot. "Hnn." No one dared say anything, unsure of their captain's thought process.

Ikkaku was the only one who walked forward. He scratched his clean-shaven head, resting his sheathed Zanpakuto over one shoulder. "She's gonna die if we leave her for too long," he muttered. "I need t' check on two of the recruits at the hospital anyways; do you want me to take 'er?"

Shaking his head, Zaraki sheathed his sword, the long katana with the ragged edge sliding back into the scabbard he wore at his back. "Nah, I'll take her." He picked Tomo up with ease, hanging her body over one shoulder. "Keep drilling."

Leaving Ikkaku confused, Zaraki took off running, men leaping out of his way. It had been some time since someone so fresh out of the academy had had the balls to stand up to him, let alone such a shrimp of a girl like this one—and from the Fourth Division no less. She also had power. She reminded him a bit of Kurosaki, Ichigo. Her reiatsu was quite substantial, but it was untrained. She obviously knew enough to keep it bound back, but other than that, she seemed to have no control over it.

That and her hair changed color with her moods; that was just plain weird.

000

Tomo woke up to the sound of a heart monitor. Her semi-conscious mind instantly determined that the patient was stable, and that his or her heart was fine. But then her back started hurting, and she remembered. "Fucking asshole," she muttered, trying to go back to sleep.

"You really are a stupid onna, ain't ya?" a low, slightly coarse voice said.

Her hazel eyes snapped open and stared at the man sitting in the chair beside her bed. She was silent for several moments. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she said to the man who had been the cause of her injuries in the first place.

Zaraki laughed. "I brought you here, moron."

Slowly, carefully, Tomo sat up. She had been lying on her side, and she reached behind her, nimble fingers brushing over the stitches on her back. She winced, and brought her hand back to her lap. She looked down at herself, frowning at the hospital gown she was wearing, and then at the IV in her arm. She looked back at Zaraki warily, body tensing up. "Why?"

"I wanna know what kinda onna has balls enough to stand up to me when you're not even two years outta the academy," he said plainly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tomo pointed at herself, using annoyance to cover up her nervousness at feeling so vulnerable and exposed. "This kind."

Before she could react, Zaraki was on his feet and before her, hands slamming down on the bed on either side of her. She gave an involuntary gasp, her eyes widening. It was all she could do to not to shake as the mountain of a man loomed over her, his face inches from hers. He was terrifying, and had her reiatsu not been already suppressed, her hair would have been a pale shade of gray green.

Zaraki leaned in even closer, speaking into Tomo's ear. "You're damn lucky I didn't let you bleed to death at my feet, onna. You're a newly hatched guppy that went up against the oldest shark in the ocean… and you're still alive." He could feel her fear, and he grinned. "Why'd I let ya live? Well…" He chuckled, pulling back slightly so that they were eye to eye. "Maybe I think you'd look better in my bed than in a body bag." He was only half serious, aiming more for playing with her fear than anything else.

Tomo couldn't stop shaking now, but she didn't look away. She kept her eyes firmly on Zaraki's own, biting down hard on her bottom lip. A sting of pain accompanied the reopening of the split, and she felt a drop of blood leak from the edge of her mouth. She only bit harder, hands clenching on the edge of the bed.

Her pride wouldn't let her look away, even if her fear was screaming for her to run. She unclenched her jaw, and licked her lips, rubbing the rest of the blood away with the back of her hand. She never once looked away from the man. "I'm sorry if I disrespected you, but just because you're a strong captain doesn't mean you have my respect."

She had to pause a moment to force the shake out of her voice. "If… if someone isn't in your division, you treat them like trash. It's all well and good that you take care of your own, but when people go out of their way to keep you and yours alive, you should at least give a bit of respect to them." Her eyes narrowed to slits. "There's more than one kind of strength, Zaraki-taichou."

Slowly, Zaraki lifted a hand, gripping Tomo's chin. He felt her tremble, and he grinned, showing his sharp canines. "Maybe," he said softly. "Maybe not. All I know… is that you owe me. I let you live." He straightened up, standing once more at his full height, but he didn't let go of her chin, the pale skin still slightly smeared with red.

The animal in him growled to see more of it; to see more of that pretty skin of hers marked with red. He tilted his head, taking in the silhouette of her form cast by the light of the open window behind her. Her normal uniform didn't do her curves justice; maybe she _would_ look better in his bed after all. But all the same… He lunged in, smashing his mouth against hers and getting a proper taste of her blood. The shock it gave her was perfect and he drew back with a wolfish grin.

"I'll collect on that debt soon, onna," he said, letting go.

"I have a name," Tomo hissed as he moved to the door. "Agaru, Tomo." But he was gone, and she was alone again. Once she could no longer hear his footsteps in the hall, she fell onto her side with a shuddering exhale. "Fucking hell he's scary!" she said weakly. She covered her mouth with one hand, closing her eyes. She had learned to tell when someone was trying to fuck with her head. That perversion of a kiss had definitely been him trying to mess with her, as had that comment about her under him.

Blushing at the thought, Tomo licked at her lip again. She didn't really owe him her life, did she? She tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear, staring at the wall. She knew that someone would be down to check on her soon, as her heart rate must have gone through the roof when Zaraki had been staring her down like he had been.

Exhaling heavily, Tomo closed her eyes. She knew that Hanatarou would lecture her about being stupid. He didn't really need to, as she already knew that this had been one of her more stupid mistakes. "Shimatte…" Her back was starting to ache more continuously. "I don't owe him shit," she muttered to herself.

"Owe who what, Agaru-san?" asked a gentle, feminine voice.

Tomo sat straight up in an instant, and instantly regretted it. She hunched over in pain, and looked up apologetically at her captain. "Gomen, Taichou," she said. "Zaraki-taichou was saying that I owed him my life… and I don't think I do."

With the same gentle smile as always, Retsu walked over to the bed. "Please turn so I can see your wound, Agaru-san," she said, motioning with her hands. Tomo did as asked, and held her arms around her chest as Retsu untied the hospital gown. She ran her hands lightly along the wound, considering the near fourteen-inch gash across the young woman's back. "I haven't had a chance to look at this myself, so I can take care of it now."

Tomo felt the soft warmth of her captain's healing power against her back, and sighed in relief as the pain receded. She had almost relaxed completely when Retsu spoke again. "Why did you go up against Zaraki-taichou, Tomo?" she asked, dropping the formalities. "I know you're not a fool; you know you have no chance against him." Her voice was genuinely worried. "Had he hurt you before?"

Feeling like a child being scolded by a loving parent, Tomo sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Not really _hurt_ me," she said. "He just never respects what you and the entire division do for him and his squad. We're constantly patching them up and saving their lives and I've never _once_ heard a thank you!"

Retsu instantly detected the deep-rooted frustration in her subordinate. She didn't speak for several moments as she continued the healing. Soon every last stitch had fallen out onto the bed. She retied the gown, and turned Tomo around. "But you should know that's just how he is," she said. "You had Hanatarou-kun so worried."

Tomo hugged her legs up against her chest, resting her chin on her knees. "I knew I would but… Well I have a bit of a temper and last night two of his squad members were brought in. I got the night call and had to patch them up; I almost had to shove the intestines back into one of them." She heaved another sigh. "They only complained." She clenched her hands into fists. "I'm glad I'm a healer, but I'm tired of just being seen as the clean up crew." She looked up pleadingly at her captain. "We're all so much more than that, Unohana-taichou! We do so much and we're hardly ever seen…"

Unohana put a hand on Tomo's shoulder. "It's true that it's the warriors tend to take center stage, while we healers are only in the shadows," she said. "But without us, there would be no heroes, Tomo. People may not always see us, but every single person that comes through our doors needs our help. You would not deny them that, would you T—?"

"Of course not!" Tomo broke in. "No matter how annoying or rude they were, if they're admitted here, I'll treat them and do all I can to heal them." She sighed, then spoke very quietly. "I just… You know what I used to be like, Taichou. You know who I used to be." She looked away.

The gentle smile on Retsu's face turned to an expression of worry, and she nodded. "Yes, I do, Tomo," she said. "But," she took both of Tomo's hands in hers, "that doesn't change who you are now, or the potential that you have here."

The younger Shinigami looked up at her captain, a hopeful smile on her face. Then the smile widened, and she let out a small laugh. "Yes, you're right, Unohana-taichou," she said. Then again, more firmly, "you're right." She nodded, sitting up straight. "It doesn't matter what he says. I still have work I need to do here."

Giving Tomo's hands a soft squeeze, Unohana stood, smiling again. "That's the Tomo I know," she said, eyes crinkling slightly with her smile. "Hanatarou-kun will be along when it's time for you to be released. It shouldn't be much longer." Bidding Tomo farewell, Unohana left the room.

Leaning back, Tomo heaved yet another sigh, but smiled this time as she closed her eyes. She snuggled down on the bed, pulling the blankets up over herself again. She could rest now; healings always made her a bit drowsy.

By the time Hanatarou arrived to pick her up, she was fast asleep, and he didn't want to wake her. He smiled, shaking his head at Tomo as she drooled slightly on the pillow, her hair cast all about her. She looked particularly cute that way. A tiny blush crept into his cheeks and he shook his head. He made himself busy with detaching her from the IV and the heart monitor. He put a robe on over her hospital gown, and lifted her into his arms. He wasn't the strongest man in the world, but he was pretty sure that he could make it to her room without dropping her.

Grunting and holding on tight, Hanatarou moved out of the hospital halls and into the squad member quarters. He unlocked the door to Tomo's room, but paused. They'd given him a key and told him to take her there if she couldn't walk, but he didn't want to intrude into a lady's room. His face went red and he dithered about before Tomo's weight began to take a toll. He went in and carried her over to the futon.

He lay her down on her bed, pulling back the covers and tucking them around her. She opened her eyes for a moment, blinking sleepily at him. "Hey, Hana," she mumbled, smiling before closing her eyes again and nuzzling into her familiar pillow. "Night, Hana."

The young man sighed and shook his head, blowing out the lamp that was affixed to the wall. "Good night, Tomo-san," he said, locking the door from the inside and leaving the key on the small desk. He heard her mumble something as he closed the door behind him, and smiled again, heading off to his own quarters for some much needed rest; worrying so much took quite a bit out of the timid young man.

000

Thankfully, Tomo woke without any left over pains. She lay awake for a moment after turning off her alarm, thinking about the previous day. She had done something quite foolish, and would now have a scar to remind her of it. Though, she'd survived Zaraki-taichou after he'd drawn his sword, and that was something at least.

She yawned, sitting up and running her fingers through her hair. She made a face; she really needed a shower. She looked at the clock, and decided she had time for one. She quickly gathered her clothes, towel, and toiletries, before rushing off to the ladies' baths and showers.

Tomo always liked to take long showers or to soak away the day in the hot spring baths, but today she didn't have time, and rushed through everything, getting soap in her eyes twice, and nicking herself shaving. By grabbing some yakisoba bread and a quick cup of tea, she was able to report to work on time, though her hair was a bit wet.

But instead of receiving her shift schedule in the staff room, Tomo was met by Kotetsu, Isane, the vice captain of the Fourth Division. "Ah, Tomo-san," she said, Tomo coming up to her. "I was looking for you. How are you feeling?"

Tomo's hand went to her shoulder, and she smiled, nodding. "I'm fine; Unohana-taichou fixed me up." Her smile turned gentle and soft. "She helped me feel better too." She laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head. "I'm sorry about making trouble for everyone…"

Isane, with a nature as gentle as her captain, smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry too much, Tomo-san," she said. "I'm sure there are lots of people that share your opinion. You're just the only one…_brave_ enough to speak your mind."

_'Or stupid enough,'_ Tomo thought. She wasn't allowed to think much more on the subject, as Isane had more to say.

"Tomo-san, there have been a string of rather violent Hollow attacks in the Rukongai. They'll be sending a small patrol and they want two medics to go with them." Tomo looked up, curious. "Unohana-taichou had picked you and Hanatarou-kun."

Surprised, Tomo blinked. "Me? I've only been here for two years. Hanatarou is the Seventh Seat, but I'm not even seated."

A smile crept across Isane's face, lighting up her eyes. "Well, after your actions in the case the night before last, Unohana-taichou has seen fit to promote you, Tomo-san." She pulled a scroll from the folds of her robe. "You are now the Eighth Seat of the Fourth Division." She passed the scroll over. "Congratulations."

Eyes wide, Tomo unrolled the paper and read it quickly. There was Unohana's signature and the official seal of Yamamoto-Genryūsai, the Captain of the First Division. "W-wow…" she murmured. "In just two years?" She looked up, and her face broke into a bright and glowing smile. She lost all sense of decorum and hugged Isane tightly. "Thank you so much, Isane-fukutaichou!"

Isane made several sounds of awkward surprise before she lightly returned the hug. "Y-you're welcome, Tomo-san. But you have to go…"

Tomo nodded, pulling back. "Hai, gomen." She headed out, but paused, looking back at the door. "Will I need my Zanpakuto?" she said softly. Isane only nodded, and her expression was grim. "Ah, I see." She bowed out and headed for her room to pick up her med-kit and her weapon.

She hadn't used Kazegetsu in real combat for a very long time, the last two years having been spent practicing alone out in the woods. But now the Zanpakuto might actually get a work out…

She chewed her lip, as she picked up the katana. _'That isn't really a good thing.'_ She knew better than most what combat could do to people. She had seen enough blood and suffering to know better than to wish to fight. But there were parts of her that, no matter how deep she buried them, still had a strong hold on her, that longed to test her strength against that of others.

Kazegetsu's handle was several inches longer than the usual katana handle, bound with brown cord. The _tsuba_, or guard, was like two crescent moons, back-to-back and curving out to fine, but dulled points. The sheath had originally had a matte lacquer, but Tomo had since removed the lacquer and covered the naked wooden sheath with black leather, with the phases of the moon tooled—in silver—across the surface. Tomo pressed her brow to the grip, closing her eyes. "Keep us safe," she murmured in prayer, before attaching it to its special belt and buckling it around her waist.

Making sure that her aid kit was fully stocked, she slung it across her back. Braiding her hair as she went, Tomo hurried to the front gate. She smiled as she glimpsed Hanatarou, then froze as two others came into view. There were seven in the squad, excluding Hanatarou and herself, and out of that seven, there were two of them that Tomo knew, but desperately wished she didn't.

The first of them was named Tsuoi, Akira. He was a very tall, lanky young man, with dark gray hair and pale gray eyes. His face was sharp and long, the light eyes as piercing as they had ever been. The second was shorter, and went by the name, Takahachi, Hitoshi. He was more muscular, and his light brown hair was scruffy and long. His dark eyes sent memories surging, and it took all the willpower that Tomo had to start walking again, going to greet Hanatarou, all the while acting as if nothing was wrong.

"Morning, Hanatarou," she said, her smile a bit strained. She felt Akira and Hitoshi's eyes on her, and she did her best to ignore them. "Is everyone here?" He nodded. "Who's leading the patrol?"

"I am," came the reply. The others parted for the obviously higher-ranking Shinigami. Tomo looked up, and blinked at the bald head and black eyes. On closer inspection she saw marks of red at the corners of the eyes, and she realized this at the same time she remembered the man's name. Madarame, Ikkaku. He was the third seat of the Eleventh Division, and Tomo instantly stiffened, preparing for some mention of the previous day.

But there was none. Ikkaku looked the two healers over, frowning deeply. "Can you two handle combat?" he said, eyes narrowed.

Tomo nodded, and Ikkaku glimpsed saw a spark of pride in her eyes, as well as a hint of a smile at the corners of her full mouth. "Yes, Madarame-san," she said firmly.

_'At least she's confident,'_ Ikkaku thought with a mental shrug. Then he looked to the very nervous Hanatarou. "And you?" he said, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward to stare down at the seventh seat.

"Y-y-yes sir!" Hanatarou stuttered, standing rigidly. "S-s-seventh seat, Yamamada, Hanatarou, reporting for duty!"

"Hana," Tomo whispered, "calm down. Just be respectful and pay attenton. You'll be fine." He looked over his shoulder at her and she gave a soft wink, and he calmed slightly.

Snorting dryly, Ikkaku straightened up, turning away. He was resting his sheathed sword on his shoulder as Tomo had seen him do before. "Alright! See if you can keep up with me!" Then he was off like a rocket, the others taking off as well, taking to the roofs to keep out of the foot traffic.

Tomo was going along fine in the middle of the group, Hanatarou not far behind, when Akira and Hitoshi pulled up on either side of her. Each of them were wearing warm and welcoming smiles; Tomo's stomach and throat tightened up. Akira spoke first, and the voice but her teeth on edge. "Agaru-san, it's been far too long," he said, smiling. "How have you been?"

"Just fine, thanks," Tomo said, looking straight ahead.

A false smile came across Akira's face. "That's good," he said quietly, with false warmth in his voice. "I'm surprised that you graduated; congratulations! Tell me, how low _are_ you placed in the…Fourth Division?" His voice held the disdain of royalty looking down on the dirtiest of peasants.

Tomo's head snapped around and there was a flash of red in her hair for the briefest of moments. "Eighth Seat," she said quietly. "And if it weren't for the Fourth, you and Takahachi would have no one to take care of you when you get thrashed in sparring." She looked over her shoulder, and saw Hanatarou looking at her with worry. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She had to keep herself under control; this was _not_ the time to be starting fights.

She fell back a few paces, falling into step beside her friend. She knew that he hadn't heard the hissed conversation, but he had seen her tensing up. He continued to look at her with the same worried expression as the group entered the forest and slowed to a walk.

"Keep your senses sharp," Ikkaku said in a hushed voice. "Healers, stay where you are. Takahachi, Tsuoi, get behind them."

Part of Tomo rebelled at being kept back. She loved her job, but there was, and always would be, part of her that thirsted for action and activity. She would always want to test herself against those that were stronger. Ten Hitoshi's voice floated up to her. "How many dicks did you have to suck to get _that_ rank?"

Hanatarou heard this time, and his eyes widened. "How dare—!" Tomo put a hand on his arm, shaking her head. Her teeth were clenched, but she kept calm. It was rare for insults aimed directly at her to actually piss her off; she usually only took offence to insults aimed at those she saw as friends and family. The mere presence of the two men annoyed her, but she kept calm. Hanatarou looked at her incredulously, but she just smiled. However, they kept talking, their voices so quiet that only Hanatarou and Tomo could hear them.

"What are you talking about?" Akira snickered. "No man is gonna let _that_ get in his pants."

"The Fourth must be really desperate if they're taking people like her into their ranks."

"Yeah, especially with who her parents were. After what they did, I'm surprised they didn't cull their spawn."

Kazegetsu was free from her sheath in a spark of silver, and reiatsu burst against the two men. Tomo stared at them, holding her blade—one handed and steady—inches from Akira's throat. Her hair was crimson, and a wind had sprung up, lashing the loose bits about her face and pulling it from its braid. Everyone felt the release, and Ikkaku spun around, pushing people out of the way to see what the hell was going on.

"Oi! Agaru!"

"Urusai," Tomo growled, glaring over her shoulder at him but keeping her sword trained on Akira and Hitoshi. "Stay out of this." Ikkaku scowled and reached for her, only to be buffeted back by another burst of wind. Tomo glared at the two men, the wind blowing harder. "Now… You two…" They just stared; this was not the Tomo they remembered. "I'm a nice person, so I'll give you a chance to apologize to me and _mean_ it."

They could have avoided everything, but both were arrogant and foolish. Hitoshi puffed out his broad chest and drew his own sword. "Or what?" he spat. "What the hell are you going to do, _healer_?" He couldn't seem to grasp the fact that the wind around them _wasn't_ the weather of the world.

"This." Tomo pulled her sword back, gripping it with both hands, before swinging down and across Akira's body, though she never once touched him.

"Wh-what?" he laughed. "Is that all you can do? You didn't even—!" Blood bloomed along the long slash across his torso, and he fell to his knees, clutching himself.

Ikkaku's eyes were wide, and he stared as the healer smiled in a way that reminded him a bit too much of the expression his captain so often showed. It was a look of battle- and bloodlust. The girl wanted to make the two before her _hurt_, and it looked like she had the skills to do it. She ducked under a swipe from Hitoshi's sword, seeming to almost dance in a half circle, ending up behind him.

"You shoulda said sorry," she said, in an almost singsong tone. Then she lifted her sword up, holding it horizontally before her. "Agaru, Kazegetsu! Arashi wo kaishi shite!" Kazegetsu extended, light engulfing it as she released her shikai. When it settled, Tomo held a weapon that closely resembled a naginata. The shaft of it was seven feet long, the slightly curved blade at the top adding another two. At the other end, a crescent shaped blade hung from a strange chain, the chain looped once around Tomo's left arm. The chain wasn't made of links of metal, but rather of alternating beads of turquoise and gold; the turquoise beads were long and oval-shaped, the gold beads perfectly round, each around the size of a large marble.

The wind was blowing stronger now, and Hitoshi took a shaking step back. Hanatarou's eyes were wide, and he cried out. "Tomo-san! Tomo-san, stop!"

Tomo glanced at him for a moment, and the anger flickered. "But, Hana… they—"

Hitoshi lunged, pushing his blade forward, stabbing her shoulder. He drove it through to the hilt, and grabbed her other shoulder. "Akira! Now!" The other man lunged up from his place on the ground, drawing his blade and slashing at Tomo's back. A new wound was opened and she screamed in pain, the wind howling with her. Hitoshi glared at Tomo, holding her as she shook, face pale. "You're nothing, Agaru, just like your parents were. You can't beat anyone, and you have no hope of ever growing as a Shinigami."

Akira grinned, and stepped back. "We'll cull you like the useless mutt you are." He pulled his sword up, resting it at her back, behind her heart. Then he stepped back, grinning. He would take great pleasure in ending her life. She'd been an annoyance to him, and now he could get rid of her.

"OI! STAND DOWN!" Ikkaku bellowed, trying to force himself through the wind. "FUCKING STAND DOWN!"

"Tomo-san!" Hanatarou beat his fists against the wind, crying out for his friend. He could see that Akira was getting ready to strike, to kill her, to take his friend away from him. "Don't you touch Tomo-san!" Then he was slipping through, the wind letting him in. His hair whipped around his face, the flapping of his clothes loud in his ears.

Everything happened in an instant, but seemed to take forever. Hanatarou broke through, lunging at Akira with a cry. He grabbed onto Tomo, coming between her and Akira. Tomo screamed his name as he took the blow for her instead, the razor sharp Kanata plunging into his body. The wind died down, and everything returned to normal. It was still and quiet, the gasping of the wounded the only sound.

"H-Hanatarou…" Tomo whispered, staring over her shoulder. "Hana, why did you…?" Hitoshi staggered back, and Tomo whimpered as the blade was pulled from her shoulder. She was panting, blood pouring down her body. "Hana…" Staggering, she turned, catching him as he came off Akira's sword.

Ikkaku came in, striking Akira across the chest with his own, sheathed Zanpakuto. "What the hell is going on?" he growled, staring around. "What were you thinking ?" He grabbed Tomo's good shoulder. "Hey, you gotta hold on here, this kid needs you." She didn't look up, staring down at her friend. He was mercifully unconscious, but he was bleeding. "Agaru!"

Tomo started at the sharp call of her name, but didn't look up. She dropped her weapon beside her, and put her hands over the wound in Hanatarou's chest. "Please don't die, Hana," she whispered. Her hair faded from crimson to a pale blue, and her eyes closed. Her hands began to glow with a feeble light as she started the healing. Still hurt and losing blood, her face grew progressively paler, but Hanatarou's wound was closing.

"Good, now lets get you—" Ikkaku began. Tomo grabbed her weapon up and swung the chain, the crescent blade singing through the air. There was no cry of pain as Hitoshi and Akira lost their heads, their blades poised to strike behind Ikkaku. He whirled, drawing his blade. Why hadn't anyone else seen this? No one else was reacting! "What the hell is wrong with all of you?" he snarled. "Get the healers back to the hospital!"


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hey again. Here's the updated chapter two. Not too many big changes, but I'm gonna be working on chapter three now. Yay for inspiring music!_

CHAPTER TWO:

It was the second time in as many days that Retsu had to look down on Tomo as she lay in one of the hospital beds. It was also the second time that Zaraki, Kenpachi looked down on the unconscious Shinigami woman. Tomo's injuries were healed and bandaged, but there was only so much that could be done. If she hadn't lost so much blood, Retsu might have been able to repair more, but that wasn't the case.

"Retsu," Zaraki said, "what's a wildcat like this doing in _your_ division? She was born fer combat."

Unohana looked up at the other captain, and gave a sad smile. "It's true that her love of battle runs deep, but she is a gentle soul, too gentle."

Zaraki scoffed, sitting down in the chair, arms folded over his chest. "Che. What the hell does that mean?" he muttered. "A fighter is a fighter. So why the hell do you want _us_ here?"

A small, pink-haired head popped up from behind his shoulder, and light, gold-brown eyes peered down at Tomo. "Ken-chan, what're we doing here?" Yachiru said, looking from the young woman to her adoptive father. He ignored her, staring at Unohana and waiting for her answer.

"She is a gentle soul with a love of battle," Unohana said. "She doesn't know how to accept both of them as a part of herself, so she hides the part of her that she thinks she shouldn't have." Her smile was still sad, and she sat down on the edge of the bed. Then she looked up. "I want you to teach her." Her tone was firm, and her gaze had hardened slightly. "I've already approved it with Yamamoto-taichou."

Zaraki's eyes narrowed instantly. "No fuckin' way, Retsu," he snapped. "There aren't any women in my division now, and there won't ever be. They're never strong enough." He looked down at Tomo. "She's a tough gaki, but she ain't got what it takes to be in the Eleventh."

"I think she does, Taichou." The two captains looked to the door, and saw a lightly frowning Ikkaku. "She has next to no control, but she saved my ass. She noticed someone coming at me before I could." His frown deepened, and he walked further into the room, staring at the bed. "She's got talent."

"You're also forgetting Yachiru-chan," Retsu said, nodding at the girl who was playing with the bells in Zaraki's hair. The girl looked up for a moment at the sound of her name, but quickly went back to playing. "She won't be a little girl forever."

"Che. Yachiru doesn't count," Zaraki muttered. He narrowed his one visible eye at Ikkaku. "So the gaki saved yer ass, huh?"

The bald man nodded. "Yeah. One of the morons she killed had been up behind me, and I didn't sense 'im. She got him before he could do anything." He looked at his captain now, his gaze serious. "I'll follow you and your orders until the day I die, Taichou, but I think Agaru has what it takes to survive us."

"She'd be the only woman in well over a hundred men," Zaraki pressed, not at all liking the idea of having something forced on him. "Just how would a little thing like her be treated, huh?"

Yachiru, who had apparently been listening, piped up. "She can stay with me, Ken-chan!" she said, waving her hand in the air like an eager student. "Niji-chan can stay in my room!"

"Niji?" Zaraki looked at Yachiru, frowning.

She jumped down to his lap, and then over to the hospital bed. She pointed at Tomo's hair. Asleep, the hold on its changes was gone, and it fluctuated between her natural deep brown, as well as various hues and mixes of blue. "Her hair is like a rainbow! So… Niji-chan!" She beamed happily. "I wanna have her stay with me, Ken-chan."

He opened his mouth to respond, but Tomo groaned loudly before he could say anything. "Quiet, pleeeease!" she muttered, her eyes squeezing shut. "Too loud…" She opened one eye a crack, and quickly shut it again. "And bright."

Laughing softly, Unohana shook her head. "I guess it's been decided then." She got up, and walked to the door. She dimmed the lights as she left, leaving the waking Tomo to her new captain and squad-mates.

It was not a happy waking, either. Tomo felt a dull ache all over her torso, and it hurt to breathe. It was like there was a weight planted squarely on her chest. She cracked one eye open again, and found that there was _indeed_ a weight on her chest; a weight in the form of a small, pink haired girl. "What? Get off," she mumbled. Yachiru did so, but stayed on the bed. Bit by bit, Tomo opened her eyes fully, and looked around. Seeing Zaraki sitting at her bedside for a second time jolted her up and awake. But sitting up was not a good thing, as it made the dull ache turn to sharp, stabbing pain. "Fuck!" she swore, mindless of the small child.

Pressing her hand to her throbbing shoulder, Tomo stared at Zaraki. "What the _hell_ are you doing he—?" She broke off, and her eyes widened. Everything flashed back to her and she tumbled out of the bed. Grabbing the IV stand for support, she tore off the electrodes that monitored her heart and began to stagger from the room, alarms starting to sound.

"Oi!" Ikkaku snapped as she shoved him out of the way. Gritting her teeth, Tomo staggered along the hall, looking from side to side at the names on each of the rooms. She heard Ikkaku calling behind her, and glared at the IV stand; it was slowing her down. Pressing down at the point of entry, she pulled the IV from her arm, also pulling out the needle from the nearly empty blood bag.

Freed from the cumbersome thing, Tomo grabbed hold of a healer. He wasn't one she knew, but that didn't matter. "Ya-Yamamada, Hana-Hanatarou!" she gasped, panting and holding tightly to the front of the man's robe. "What room is he in?"

The man stared in surprise. "R-room twelve, but…" Then he recognized her, and became alarmed. "Agaru-san! You need to get back into bed!"

But Tomo was already moving again, going as fast as her aching and throbbing body would allow. She could see the room she wanted just ahead of her, when a huge, well-muscled arm snaked around her waist, stopping her cold. "What the fuck are you doing, moron?" Zaraki's voice growled in her ear. "Yer startin' to tear yer stitches."

"I don't care!" Tomo said, trying in vain to free herself. "I've gotta see Hana! Lemme go, asshole!"

"That's no way to speak to your new taichou, Agaru," Ikkaku muttered, coming in front of her. "He's just tryin' to save you some trouble. You'll only make your injuries worse."

Tomo was too focused on her friend to really comprehend what Ikkaku had just said. "I don't care if he's the fucking King of all Heaven!" she snapped, fighting with all of what little energy she had. "Hanatarou got hurt because of me and I gotta see him!"

Zaraki felt the warmth of blood where his uniform opened to bare his chest, and looked down. Crimson was blooming from the woman's shoulder where her wound was reopening. It was going to take some rather unusual means to stop her from getting herself killed. He turned her around and slammed his mouth onto hers in a hard, closed-lipped kiss. Ikkaku's eyes widened and Tomo froze. Zaraki held to her only a moment before pulling back. "The other gaki's fine. But _you_ won't be if you keep struggling." He carried the shocked woman into the room where Hanatarou was sleeping, and dropped her down on the bed next to his. "Now _stay_ there," he ordered.

The man that Tomo had caught in the hall bustled back in, bringing her IV with him. As she craned her neck to see past him to the other bed, he put both needles back in. Then he turned to Ikkaku and Zaraki. "I have to remove her robe to treat her wounds again. It would be best if you left. For now." Ikkaku nodded and left without protest, but Zaraki didn't move, Yachiru perched happily in her usual place. "Zaraki-taichou, please, Agaru-san needs her privacy," the man insisted weakly; he was just as scared of Zaraki as the next person.

"Yeah, well, she ain't gettin' any," Zaraki said bluntly. "I'm her captain."

"Don't worry!" Yachiru said cheerily. She swung around to sit with her legs hanging over each shoulder. "I'll make sure Ken-chan doesn't peek!" She reached around and covered both of his eyes with her small hands, even though his eye patch already covered the right.

Tomo couldn't help but giggle, but the smile faded as she finally processed what Kenpachi had said. "Wait! _My_ captain? No you're not!" The healer sighed heavily and politely opened her robe. He pulled on fresh rubber gloves and dabbed the blood away with a wet cloth he seemed to have pulled from thin air.

"Yeah, I am," the blind Zaraki said with a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest. "And not by choice."

"What the fuck!" Tomo cried, too worked up to think about holding the robe up over her breasts. She stared at Zaraki in consternation, barely noticing the healer's insistence that she sit still. "You most certainly are not! I'm the Eighth Seat of the Fourth Division!"

Quickly getting annoyed with her, Zaraki's scowl deepened, but Yachiru's hands ruined the effect. "Ya got transferred," he snapped. "Now shut up."

"I don't belong in the Eleventh Division!" Tomo abruptly yelled. "I'm a fucking healer, not some bloodthirsty jock!"

Zaraki pulled Yachiru gently but quickly form him, setting her on Hanatarou's bed. Eyes open, he moved, shoving the healer out of the way. He surged forward with the force of a tidal wave, grabbing Tomo by the neck and shoving her up against the wall, feet well off the ground. Gasping, Tomo's hands flew to his wrist, her robe falling down around her waist. "L-let go!" she gasped.

"Listen to me, onna," Zaraki growled, leaning in close. "I never wanted you in my division, but the old man and Retsu think it's a good idea. I didn't decide anything. Now both of us are gonna have ta fuckin' _deal_ with it, got it?"

Tomo was gasping, fighting for breath. Her vision was blurry now, but she trained her eyes on Zaraki's face. Her hair flickered to a fearful gray, but she dug her fingernails in deep. "U-understood," she gasped.

Zaraki released her and she slid to the floor, clutching her throat and coughing. She bit her lip against several choice words that came to mind. She glared up at Zaraki, the healer diving down to her side and checking her over. He looked up and offered as angry a look as he could manage before going back to healing Tomo. She pulled her robe back up over her chest, face flushing slightly. Scoffing, Zaraki scooped up Yachiru, and left the room.

"He's still an asshole," Tomo muttered sullenly.

000

Tomo angrily stuffed the last of her spare uniforms into her bag, sitting back on the balls of her feet and crossing her arms over her chest. Her shoulder twinged, and she sighed heavily. She looked over at the sling set to her left, and rubbed her wounded shoulder. The doctor was right, and she knew it. She put the sling on, grumbling to herself under her breath. With her arm now bound firmly but comfortably to her body, it made it much harder to move her bad shoulder. She knew this was a good thing, but with the uncharacteristically bad mood she was in, she still complained to herself.

It didn't take her long to finish packing the rest of her belongings, and she was sitting cross-legged on the floor when her door was pulled open. She blinked in surprise to see Ikkaku standing in the doorway. "Madarame-san? I didn't expect you to be the one helping me."

"You saved my life, Agaru," Ikkaku said, coming in. "I'm gonna owe you for a good long while." He nodded to the bags and boxes before him. "Now, whaddaya want me to carry?"

Tomo got to her feet, slinging her rucksack of clothes over her good shoulder. "Um, the boxes, I guess," she said, nodding to the two, mid-sized cardboard boxes. "We can come back for the other stuff." She grabbed up the other bag.

"Che, I can take them all," Ikkaku said, waving a hand. He put one box on his shoulder, the other under his arm. Finally, he grabbed the largest bag, a duffle from the human world. He paused a moment as he stuffed it under his arm as well. "Your Zanpakuto, huh," he murmured.

"Yeah, Kazegetsu is in there," Tomo said quietly. "Thank you for helping me, Madarame-san."

He would have waved a hand to dismiss the thanks, but his hands and arms were quite full. He just shrugged and turned around. "C'mon then, Agaru. The fukutaichou is probably getting impatient."

"Y-yeah…" Tomo said, only half listening as she walked. "Don' wanna keep Yachiru-fukutaichou waiting."

She bit her bottom lip, trying to ignore the looks she got on the way out and on the streets. The Eleventh and Fourth divisions were fairly far away from each other, but Tomo knew the way by heart, and even though she was distracted by her own thoughts, she didn't fall behind. She was worried about Hanatarou. He hadn't woken up yet, even with all the healing he'd received. He'd gotten hurt trying to save her, and now he was in a coma.

_'I shouldn't have let them get to me,'_ Tomo thought, chewing on her bottom lip now. _'They are—they _were_ imbecilic morons. They were rude and stupid and I…'_ She shook her head and quickly forced herself to think about something else. Something like the fact that the man she had insulted not too long ago was now her captain, and that she would be the only actual _woman_ in a division full of violent men. She had gone from a healer to a part of what was accurately called the 'Combat Division'.

"I can't believe this," she breathed, kicking a pebble out of her way.

"Yeah, I'm havin' a hard time with it too," Ikkaku said in front of her. "I never woulda thought that the Taichou would let _anyone_ force someone on him like this. Yer not a bad fighter, I know, but Zaraki-taichou doesn't like having decisions made for him, especially about his division."

Tomo's short laugh was both dry and nervous. "Bet he really hates the idea of someone like me being put in. I'm a healer, a woman, and I wasn't exactly respectful to him not too long ago."

To her surprise, Ikkaku looked over his shoulder and gave her a genuine grin. "Agaru, you're the first person in a long, long time—first woman _ever_—to stand up to him like that. He doesn't hate you for that. Though… he demands respect, and you should give it to him." He kept walking.

Confidence returned to the young woman. "I can't respect anything more than his strength. I've heard that he takes care of his own, and that he is a kind father figure, but I haven't seen any of that for myself." Ikkaku stopped and turned to look at her. She stopped as well and looked up into his eyes with a firm, decided gaze. "I respect that he is stronger than me, and ranked so. But I cannot respect him as a man until he has earned it. Respect is earned, _never_ given."

For several moments, the sounds of the street just washed over the two of them. Ikkaku stood and stared at her, scrutinizing her face and eyes. She didn't flinch or shy away from his gaze. She believed in her words and he could tell that she would adhere to them until the day she died. He started to say something, but shook his head; she'd have to figure things out for herself if she wanted to survive.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and after a short while, Tomo found herself once more entering onto the grounds of the Eleventh Division. She remembered her last visit and repressed a shiver. She flexed the hand she wasn't using, wiggling the fingers before she hefted her bag higher on her shoulder. She kept her gaze straight ahead, trying to ignore the men around her as they stopped what they were doing and watched her. Their voices flew around her, and she bit her tongue against any comments. She had enough to deal with at the moment.

But it might not be _all _bad. She wasn't sure what it would be like to share a room with Kusagishi, Yachiru, but she knew that the girl was usually very good-natured. That, and she had seemed quite happy on having a roommate. Entering the division house was no different from being outside, except that going through the halls made it easier to hear the mutterings and whispers. Ikkaku either didn't give a fuck, or couldn't hear very well. And as she thought about it, Tomo realized that it really didn't matter if they whispered behind her back. She'd had that happen before, and a lot of things said in such a way were nothing but rumors.

However, in this instance, the men weren't talking rumors. They were talking about what they had been told about the new addition to the division, Agaru, Tomo. They had probably been told about, or heard about what she had done in the forest. There didn't seem to be much grief—if any—for those that she had killed.

But this didn't put Tomo at ease; she felt even _worse_. She had dedicated the past two years to _saving_ lives, not _taking_ them, and now she had killed two people. Her steps almost faltered, and her eyes got hot. But as emotional as she was, Tomo hated crying in front of strangers, and kept the tears back. She shook her head, and straightened up.

If she hadn't, she would have bumped into Ikkaku, who had stopped and was standing by a closed door. It stood out from the others because it was slightly larger, and furiously decorated with cut out flowers of various colors, and a plaque that read 'Yachiru's Room'. Ikkaku set down one of the boxes, and slid the door open, poking his head in. "Fukutaichou?" He pulled back. "Looks like she's not here." He picked up the box again and went in, Tomo following.

Inside was most certainly a child's room. It was messy, and hand drawn pictures were pinned up all over the walls. Setting the bags down, Tomo took a moment to take it all in. She walked up to a picture with quite vibrant colors. She couldn't help but grin as she realized it was a crayon drawing of Zaraki slicing Hollows into many bloody pieces, with Yachiru rejoicing in the background.

_'Maybe I can manage,'_ Tomo thought.

"You'll be sharin' a bed with the Fukutaichou for now," Ikkaku said, catching Tomo's attention and motioning to the messily made futon set against the far wall. He put his fists on his hips and looked around. "There should be space for your stuff…somewhere."

He frowned, and walked over to one of the compartments set into the wall. He opened it, and a mix of clothes, toys, and other items tumbled out onto him. He went down swearing, and Tomo hurried over to him.

"Madarame-san! Are you alright?"

Digging him out took a bit longer than she would have liked, as she could only use one arm. But after throwing things over her shoulders, and Ikkaku thrashing around a great deal, he sat up. Tomo instantly had to stifle a laugh, as a pair of little girls' underwear was perched atop his bald head. They were pink with white borders, and the sight proved to be too much for Tomo, and she fell over, laughing.

"Wha—? Hey! What's so funny?" Ikkaku demanded, glaring at the girl. She _tried_ to tell him, she really did, but she was laughing far too hard to get any words out. All she could do was point at his head, and try to breathe. Ikkaku snatched at the top of his head, and yanked the underwear down. He stared at it for a few moments, in which Tomo sat up, taking some control of herself. The seconds ticked by with no reaction. Then, Ikkaku hurled them violently into Tomo's face, leaping to his feet. "Is it so hard to keep a room clean? Is that such a difficult task for her? God, are those even _clean_?"

Tomo lost it again, laughing so hard her ribs hurt. Ikkaku was raving again, his grudge with the pink haired girl boiling to the surface. It went on for several minutes, and by that time, Tomo's eyes were watering and she was red in the face. "Ma-Madarame-san!" she gasped. "Sh-she's just a kid, a-and I'm sure they were c-clean." She sat up, gasping for breath. "I'm sure she didn't do it on purpose."

Ikkaku glared down at the younger Shinigami, his eyes narrowed. "Oh, don't be so…" He trailed off, grumbling under his breath. He sat down heavily, crossing his legs, and putting a fist on each knee to angle his arms out. He peered intently at Tomo for several long moments. She almost felt the urge to lean back his gaze was so intense. Finally, he spoke. "You look better when you're laughing," he said. "Anger doesn't suit ya, Agaru. Learn to enjoy life." He gestured with an open hand. "You should enjoy fighting! Enjoy testing your strength!"

The slight smile that had been clinging to Tomo's face died instantly, and she looked down. "No…" She bit her lip, fingers twisting at the hem of her hakama. "How can I enjoy hurting people?" She shook her head. "That's not who I am; I don't belong here."

"I'm an eyewitness that says you do," Ikkaku said, frowning now as well. "You're a wildcat, Agaru, and you got more balls 'n most of this division put together, the way you stood up to Zaraki-taichou."

"I'm supposed to be a healer," she muttered, refusing to look up. "Healers make people better, not tear them up. I'm a kind person, and that longing for battle and blood and strength can't be part of me. It shouldn't be there."

Ikkaku stared at her, starting to get frustrated. He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again with a sigh. You couldn't force someone to learn something if they weren't ready to accept the facts. Apparently, Tomo wasn't ready. He shrugged, moving towards the door. "Dinner in the cafeteria is at six-thirty, or you can go out. Breakfast is at seven." He heard her mumble an acknowledgement, and then he left sliding the door shut behind him.

Alone again, Tomo slumped down, and then let herself fall over. She landed with her head on a pile of something colorful, but it was lost to her as she closed her eyes. The energy and reiatsu around her was so very different from what she was used to. It was violent, volatile and, like a thin wire pulled tight, it had a tension that vibrated as if it were on the verge of breaking loose. Her mind stretched out, searching within her range.

There was a tiny spot of peace amid all the fighting energy. Opening her eyes and blinking, she sat up and dragged her bag of clothes over to her. She yanked out her haori, and the white robe that went under it. Digging into one of the boxes, she pulled out her sewing box. With a pair of scissors, needle, and thread, she removed the sleeves from both garments and sewed up the edges.

Changing into them carefully, she replaced the white sash around her waist with a dark lavender obi; similar to she might have worn with a yukata. She put the sling back on, wincing slightly. She also forced herself to let go of what had been a constant hold on her reiatsu. Her hair flared out in a burst of color for a moment, before setting into a determined, metallic shade of gray-blue.

Once she had finished redressing, she stood up, and surveyed the room around her; it was going to take a lot of cleaning. She normally was a rather messy person, but as there was nothing else for her to do today other than rest, she figured she might as well make herself useful. Squaring her shoulders, Tomo cracked her knuckles, and went to work.

000

It didn't take quite as long as she had expected. Tomo was done in less than two hours, and the room was significantly _less_ messy. There wasn't quite enough closet space for her things though, so they were still in boxes. It was getting close to five, and she till had something she wanted to do. That little patch of calm was still somewhere close, and she wanted to get to it if she could.

_'Kami-sama knows I could use some peace and quiet about now,'_ she thought. She took a deep breath, her hair relaxing to a tranquil blue. She left the room after making sure no one was in the hall, closing the door silently. Doing her best to keep her feet quiet, Tomo tried to learn the new hallways. The lay out was similar to the division house of the Fourth Division, but things were in different places, so it took her another twenty minutes before she at last found what she was looking for.

Though… she hadn't known what it would be. Opening the door and stepping outside was like slipping into a warm bath after running around in the snow. Tomo found herself in a garden, and a lush one at that.

She was noticed instantly as she entered, and Ayasegawa, Yumichika stopped what he was doing to look up. He was standing behind a maple tree and some flower bushes, so the new arrival couldn't see him, while he had a perfect view of her. He peered at her intently, sizing her up. He could guess who she was; after all, what other female would be wandering around the Eleventh other than Agaru, Tomo?

He saw her blue hair flicker and change before his eyes to a bright and vibrant green, her heart-shaped face lighting up with a bright smile. _'Well, you certainly do have unique hair,'_ he thought. _'At least you fit in _that_ way.'_ He began to look at the rest of her now. She was small, but also very cute. His keen eye could discern an attractive sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks and nose, and her full lips were a delicate pink. Her large, hazel-green eyes were full of wonder as she began to walk forward.

She obviously liked what she saw in the garden, and Yumichika felt a swell of pride, as it was he who tended to it and made sure it didn't turn into a field of unkempt weeds and grass. He decided to speak to the cute young woman. He stepped out from behind the tree, no longer hiding his spiritual presence. "Agaru, Tomo-san," he said, smiling, "it's a pleasure to meet the courageous woman who stood up to Zaraki-taichou. I am Ayasegawa, Yumichika, the Fifth Seat of the Eleventh Division."

Tomo jumped, her hair lighting up yellow in surprise. "Oh! H-hello, Ayasegawa-san," she said, bowing; she had always been naturally polite. She took a moment to examine the man before her now. He was taller than her, his body lean and slender. His hair had a nearly impossible shine, and it was deep, navy-black in color, cut in a sharp line at the middle of his neck. Around his neck was an odd orange collar, made from some kind of knit fabric. It spread out to his shoulders and a strip of it connected to a band of it around one forearm.

"I saw that you were admiring my garden," Yumichika said proudly, gazing around.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," Tomo said. "Not something I would have expected in the Eleventh Division." She looked around again, and her smile brightened.

The elegant man smiled smugly. "Well, not _everyone_ here is a tasteless, ugly brute." He waved a hand about him at the garden, and Tomo could see the pride he had. Then he scrutinized her again, and shifted on her feet. "Hm, you are quite charming yourself, though not as lovely as me." He put an elegant, long fingered hand to his chest.

She blushed, but smiled. "Oh, thank you, Ayasegawa-san. It is a pleasure to meet you." He was a strange character indeed, but she decided that she liked him. She half closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply. The smell of the garden was heady. It was the beginning of summer, but she could still pick out spring flowers and, as she kept looking, one or two fall ones as well. "How do you keep all these flowers together?" she asked, beginning to wander.

"I have my ways," he replied, following. "What month were you born in, Agaru-san? If I may ask…"

"Oh, May."

Yumichika nodded, and moved off ahead of her, taking a path through the flowers until he stopped, having found what he was looking for. He produced a small pair of shears from his sleeve, and bent down. He returned to Tomo and presented her with a single stalk of Lily of the Valley. "I grow them all year round, but they are usually a May blooming flower." It was not a gift of affection like flowers usually were, but it made Tomo smile even brighter as she accepted it carefully.

"Thank you very much, Ayasegawa-san," she said, giving a small bow. Her hair had shifted to a happy, golden yellow, and her body language was more relaxed.

"Of course," Yumichika said. "I pride myself on always growing the most lovely flowers."

The man was rather vain, but he didn't seem to be a bad person. Twirling the flowers lightly in her fingers, Tomo cast about for something to say. In the silence, she felt the man still scrutinizing her. "I suppose that everyone in the Seireitei has heard about my transfer now," she said with a dry smile.

"Oh yes," Yumichika said, beginning to walk along a path; Tomo followed beside him. "You're causing a real stir." He saw her hair flicker to a paler yellow, and he frowned. "You know, you really are quite easy to read," he said, "with that hair of yours."

Tomo looked up, and fingered a sickly colored lock of her hair. "Yeah. My hair started doing things after I achieved Shikai," she explained. "My eyes used to shift through spectrums of green and brown, but now they just change depending on the light." She sighed, and a melancholy gray spread out from the roots.

Yumichika frowned, and stepped in front of Tomo, stopping her cold. He put his hands on his hips and turned the frown on her. She looked up at him, frowning. "Now listen here!" he said, shaking a finger at her. "You have a very pretty face, and framing it in such an _ugly_ color just won't do!" He ran his palms and long, slender fingers down the sides of her head over her hair. "You take very good care of your hair," he murmured. "So why do you—?"

"I can't always control it," she interrupted. "It's based on emotions and it's often out of my control." She looked down, her hair taking on a very stormy color. "I feel very much like a fish out of water and in the desert being put here. I'm feeling really outta sorts so there are bound to be some 'ugly' colors, okay?"

Yumichika looked genuinely confused. "But Ikkaku said that you were such an admirable fighter," he said, his head tilted. "He told me that if he had to be indebted to anyone so green, he was glad it was you."

Tomo looked up, hair bright with surprise. "Madarame-san said that?" A little bit of joy crept into her eyes.

The odd man nodded firmly. "Yes, he most certainly did. You may be very much a rookie, Agaru-san, but you have the heart of a true fighter." He smiled warmly at her. "You _do_ belong here." And while he had intended these words to compliment and encourage, he instead saw Tomo's face fall into genuine sadness. "A-Agaru-san? What's wrong?"

Her voice was hardly a whisper. "I'm not a fighter…"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't—"

"I'm not a fighter!" Tomo snapped, eyes snapping up to looked directly into Yumichika's eyes. "I'm a damn healer and I hate the part of me that likes to fight!" Angry tears were in her eyes, and her hair went between red and gray as a breeze sprung up. "I'm meant to _heal_ those that are injured, not_ cause_ those injuries." Her hands clenched unconsciously, and accidentally, the flowers she had been holding were crushed. "I wish everyone could just understand that!"

"I'm getting fuckin' sick of your whining, Agaru." Spiritual pressure filled the garden and Zaraki entered, Yachiru perched—as always—on his shoulder. "You got two sets of skills, and just 'cause they contradict each other doesn't mean it's the end of the world." He strode forward, and pushed Yumichika out of the way as he passed Yachiru to him. "Grow a set, Agaru, and face up to what you are. You like to fight, and you like to heal. Big fuckin' deal."

Tomo stared up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. His words stung, and she clenched her teeth. She had never had such a hard time controlling her temper. Never before had she met someone that so easily got a rise out of her. She was bordering on the edge of stupidity when Yachiru broke in, ignoring the frown from Zaraki. "Niji-chaaan!" she said happily. "Are you all moved in?" She stood between her father and Tomo.

It took the other female several moments to change gears; to go from just barely holding in her anger, to conversing with an extremely cheerful young girl. "Ah—um, yes," she finally said, the crimson in her hair not _quite_ so bright. "Madarame-san helped me bring in my things, and I—I hope you don't mind—tidied up a little."

Yachiru blinked, and tilted her head. "Why? Did Baldy say you had to?" she asked, genuinely curious as to why someone would willingly do something like _clean_.

Finding some amusement, Tomo relaxed slightly. Though she couldn't let her guard down more than a little with Zaraki around. "No. No, he didn't," she said. "Sometimes I just need to focus my energy, and depending on my mood, I sometimes do that by cleaning." Yachiru still looked confused, and Tomo shrugged, scratching the back of her head.

"Can you make your hair pink, like mine?" Yachiru blurted excitedly. "I've never met anyone else with pink hair!"

Tomo balked, taken off guard by the question. She stood in silence for a few moments, blinking down at Yachiru. Her hair had settled to the deep, red brown that she had been born with. Yumichika hid a smile at how easily the Fukutaichou could diffuse the tension. Even Zaraki seemed slightly deflated.

"W-well," Tomo said, scratching the back of her head, "it mostly depends on my mood… but I could try I guess." Yachiru smiled widely, and waited expectantly. Tomo closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She opened one eye to memorize the color of Yachiru's hair, then closed it again. _'Here goes.'_ She filled her mind with the color, and exhaled slowly. As she did, her scalp tingled and pink bled slowly out from the roots, seeming to drip all the way to the ends.

When Tomo opened her eyes, Yumichika, Yachiru, and Zaraki were all staring at her with various expressions. Yumichika was politely hiding a grin behind his hand, Zaraki had his brows raised a few fractions of an inch, and Yachiru was smiling with delight. Tomo reached up and pulled a stray lock of hair into her view. Sure enough, the strands between her fingers were bubble-gum pink.

"Coooool!" Yachiru said, jumping up and alighting on Tomo's shoulder with the ease of a trained acrobat. She sat down on her shoulders, a leg on either side of her head. Tomo took the weight with only a slight grunt, feeling little fingers starting to go through her hair.

With the fukutaichou sufficiently distracted, Tomo's eyes flicked back her new captain. It took some effort to keep her hair one color, as just looking at the man again made her light up. Even though her hair remained pink, he saw that same fire in her eyes. He grinned, showing a flash of sharp, white teeth. It was just too funny to watch her squirm, struggling with her pride and fear. He may not have wanted her in his division, but she had a few redeeming qualities.

"What did those two say to get themselves killed?" he asked abruptly, face turning serious. Pink went from red, to a guilty gray.

"Awww," Yachiru lamented.

"Fukutaichou… let's leave the Taichou and Agaru-san alone for a little while," Yumichika murmured, feeling the tension building in the air. He snatched up Yachiru, and whisked her away before she could mount any real protests.

This left Kenpachi and Tomo alone in the garden, staring at each other and with his question hanging in the air. It wasn't a question that she planned on answering. "Something they shouldn't have," she muttered, hair and expression darkening.

A few long strides had him right in front of her, and her head snapped up. "Two of my men are dead, gaki," he rumbled, leaning down to look at her. "It's one thing if they couldn't handle themselves and got killed, but I'm sure as hell gonna know how they pissed someone as _delicate_ as you off so bad."

"I'm not delicate!" Tomo snapped, glaring. "I have history with them and they brought up a past better left buried!" There was a single burst of wind, and it rushed through the leaves and blossoms.

Zaraki leaned down, coming nose to nose with Tomo. He felt her fear, but she didn't look away. His eyes narrowed as he peered at her, reading her face and eyes. He had been around long enough to recognize and read little things. He was no mastermind, but he could read a person's actions and expressions. At first, he thought that the two might have assaulted her, but he soon dismissed that option. They had done something to her, or at least caused an event that she would very much rather have avoided.

He could have ordered her to tell him, but it really wasn't any of his business. He straightened up, snorting lightly. "Compared to everyone else here, gaki, you _are_ delicate," he scoffed. She didn't look much older than eighteen, and while she obviously had some muscle tone, she still had a ways to go before she would be truly worthy of being in the Eleventh Division.

Frustration bubbled in Tomo's chest, and she scowled at her captain. It had been a long time since she'd wanted a fight so badly, and the urge couldn't have come at a worse time. She was injured, and was now surrounded by some of the strongest Shinigami in the Seireitei.

_'C'mon,'_ the voice in the back of her mind urged her. _'Just a little fight. Nothing big, just a little something. Take the edge off.'_ She turned abruptly away and started walking in the opposite direction of Zaraki. She took deep breaths, trying to get control of herself.

_'No,'_ she snapped back at herself._ 'I'm a healer. I don't need to fight. And anyways, all I would do is get myself in even worse shape.' _

Kenpachi blinked as he was ignored, the girl walking stiffly and hurriedly away from him. He flared his reiatsu slightly, watching her balk and still for a moment. Tomo looked over her shoulder at him, and he saw that she had split open her lip again. He also saw hunger in her eyes; it was a hunger he knew all too well. Had she been any stronger, he would have told her to get her blade. But she was still nothing but a little larva, dependant on others to keep her safe.

_'If she survives the week, I'll buy Ikkaku that expensive sake he likes so much.'_ He turned away, walking unhurriedly towards the door back into the building.

Tomo bit down her frustration, watching him go back inside. When he was gone, she sank to the ground, hugging her legs to her chest. She closed her eyes, licking at the blood on her lip. She'd spent so long trying to put aside that side of herself that she didn't like, and now that she'd been put _here_, it was coming up again with more force than it ever had.

"Why did they have to say anything?" she murmured, closing her eyes. "Why did they have to be so stupid? And why did I have to react?" Even the soft scents of the flowers couldn't calm her any more.


End file.
